


Perfect Timing

by RosieTwiggs



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Tommy Merlyn is Alive, flommy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/pseuds/RosieTwiggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds her with her toes curled into the sand.</p><p>“Sometimes I really hate that we can all just find each other through the GPS on our phones.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Timing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abbie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/gifts).



> This is a belated birthday gift to Abbie. I am so glad to have you in my life, Abbie, and you have been a rock for me these last few months. I don't know what I would do without you.
> 
> Also, thank you to Ash818 for helping me work through this one, and for the poem suggestion.

The night I fell in love with you I lost my watch:

stripping off at the sea’s edge, it fell into the dark

as I swam out into a night thick with stars,

with fisherman calling from one lit boat to another

of their catches and harbours, leaving for the dawn.

Imagine it now, plunged deep in cool sand, still hidden

years later, grains ticking over it one by one—

as your hands slide into me and I move to their pulse.

_Sarah Maguire ~ Perfect Timing_

 

He finds her with her toes curled into the sand.

She’s pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, and she’s looking out at –

Tommy doesn’t know. He can’t see anything beyond the crashing waves on the shore. It’s like the world just –

Stops.

It’s humid tonight. Summer in Starling City is fairly mild, as far as heat goes, but the ocean lends a heaviness to the air, and August is notorious for sea breezes that almost consist of more water than oxygen.

Tommy used to joke that you could probably sip Starling summer nights with a straw.

Felicity’s shoes sit on her left, and Tommy doesn’t say anything as he toes off his own shoes and socks and carries them over, settling down on her right.

It’s been dark for long enough that the heat of the day has seeped out of the sand. It’s soft and cool in between his toes.

“Sometimes I really hate that we can all just find each other through the GPS on our phones.”

Tommy frowns.

“You seemed really upset,” he says, glancing at her.  She hasn’t moved. “Do you want me to go?”

Her shoulders shift and he hears her sigh. “No. No it’s fine. I just – sometimes you just don’t want to have to talk about it, you know?”

He thinks about nights spent getting sloshed on tequila on his own, at home, at a club – it didn’t matter as long as no one was going to talk to him. He used to avoid Oliver on those nights, then Laurel once Oliver was gone.

He doesn’t drink with anyone nowadays.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, you’re here, so I guess you know why I’m here, so what needs to be said, really?” She mumbles into her knees and Tommy can’t help but smile.

“Absolutely nothing.”

Felicity mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “Damned straight,” and they both fall silent again.

Tommy stretches his legs out in front of him and leans back on his elbows, looking up. They’re far enough away from the city lights that he can see stars up in the black. Not many, but he spots Orion’s Belt and hums in recognition.

He’s not good at being quiet, usually. Usually, he talks just to keep from having to actually deal with things. Silence is a throw-back to empty rooms and a vacant house and an absent father.

He’s never felt that way with Felicity. She talks as much as he does, and he suspects, for the same reasons. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to be quiet with her.

“So, Oliver went home?”

Tommy smiles wryly, but doesn’t look over at her. “No. When I left he was brooding. I never thought someone could feel so validated and mope at the same time. Doing what you think is right shouldn’t make you feel like an asshole.”

“I take it you heard the entire argument?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it?” Tommy finally glances over at Felicity. She’s lifted her head from her knees and is looking at him, worrying at her lower lip. Now that he can see her face, he can tell she’s been crying. Her make-up is gone, and her cheeks are puffy.

He looks away, staring out at the nothingness of the ocean again. “This isn’t the first time he’s pulled the whole, ‘I care about you too much to be with you’ shtick, is it?”

Felicity sighs, and Tommy nods.

He’s not sure anything he could say would make that better, so he digs a little hole into the sand, rubbing the grains in-between his finger and thumb.

“Do you ever come out here, Tommy?”

The change of topic catches him off-guard, and he answers, “Yes,” before he really stops to think.

“Well, no, actually. Not really, not anymore.”

Felicity tilts her head, questioning, and Tommy shrugs.

“I used to come out here a lot when I was younger. My mom loved the beach. After she died I stopped coming, mainly because there just wasn’t anyone to take me. I was a kid…” Tommy shrugs. “Oliver dragged me out to a beach-party when we were fifteen. He loved the beach. Hated going into the water, but he loved the sun and the sand, and the bikinis…” Felicity snorts. “But yeah… Anyway, somewhere along the way, we realized our chances of scoring with girls increased by, like, 175% if we took them for a walk on the beach first…” He laughs. “God, we were assholes…”

Felicity’s smiling at him, though, so maybe he’s not as much of an asshole as he used to be.

Swallowing nervously, Tommy says, “I, uh, stopped coming after Oliver went missing. It was always something we did together and -  I know this sounds dumb but, I was sort of holding a grudge.”

“Against the _ocean_?” Felicity sounds incredulous.

“I didn’t say it made sense. But, yeah. I didn’t really want to have anything to do with it. Wouldn’t step foot on a boat for years if I could avoid it. Laurel was the same.”

“Did Oliver schmooze Laurel on the beach?”

Tommy laughs. “Yeah right. She knew us too well. Oliver tried one time. He told her it would be romantic. She told him if he wanted to be romantic, he could bring her flowers and take her out to an expensive restaurant, but he wasn’t going to get her to make out with him at the beach and she wasn’t going to end up with sand in her lady-parts.”

Felicity bursts into laughter. “She _said_ that?!” She sounds practically gleeful.

Tommy grins. “Oh yeah. Laurel has _very_ clear ideas on romance, and she stands by them. And she is not afraid to let you know what she thinks.”

“Good for her,” Felicity says softly, still giggling.

The little hole Tommy has been digging is now big enough to fit his fist, and he continues to scrape out little piles of sand, straightening the edges.

“I’ve always loved the beach,” Felicity states, brushing her hair out of her face. The wind has picked up, pulling strands from her ponytail. “I grew up in Vegas, you know?”

“Yeah, you’ve said a couple of times. Still have trouble seeing it…”

“Yeah, well, not everyone who lives in Vegas is a showgirl or a stripper, Tommy.”

“So what you’re saying is you don’t, and have never, actually learned how to pole dance.”

Felicity swats his arm, and he flinches away, laughing.

“I hated Vegas,” she says suddenly, and Tommy falls silent.

“It’s great for tourists, and you’d all come down and party and have fun. But you all got to leave, and I had to stay, and Vegas was just this… _place_ in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t even real. The things people come to Vegas for, they aren’t ever real. In the day time the neon doesn’t shine bright enough to cover the up the pointlessness of it all. That’s why I left, more than anything. I hated how empty it felt.”

Tommy knows the feeling.

“I remember, when I was little, I used to think it was so unfair. Because there we were, in the middle of the desert, and I remember just thinking that we had all this _sand_ , and no ocean to go with it. And what was the point of sand even if you weren’t at a beach? And when I got older, I went through this really dumb poetry phase, and I wrote some pretty ridiculous poems I’d cringe at now, but there was this one… I remember writing that the desert was actually a sea in and of itself, but it was made of ashes, and Vegas was the ship going down in the middle of it… I still remember that…”

Tommy’s completely dumbfounded and can’t think of what to say to that. “Wow, I- wow…”

Felicity blows out a breath of air. “Yeah. I know.”

“So you love the beach.”

Felicity nods. “I love the beach. I love the water, I love the air, I love the sand. Tonight was either going to be a pajamas and chocolate, Netflix sort of night, or a beach night. I decided I was done moping and just needed this instead.”

“Well,” Tommy breathes deeply, letting the air out in a rush, “I think you made the right choice. It’s definitely beautiful out here. Peaceful.”

“It would probably be even more peaceful out there.” Felicity sounds wistful, gesturing with her chin out towards the water.

Tommy makes a snap decision which takes all of two seconds, before standing up, reaching a hand down to Felicity.

“What?” Felicity asks, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

Tommy nods once, firmly. “Out there.”

Felicity looks confused for one more second before she realizes what he means. “Tommy, I can’t, my clothes-“

“Take them off.”

And there it is.

To Felicity’s credit, she hardly bats an eye. Tommy was expecting flustered rambling, at the very least, but Felicity just freezes for a moment before raising one eyebrow.

“You want to go skinny dipping?”

For some reason, now that Felicity’s turned the suggestion around on him, he’s nervous. His heart’s beating double time in his chest and he swallows compulsively. But Tommy Merlyn is not one to pass up a challenge. He smirks with an air of confidence he doesn’t feel and says, “What’s wrong, Smoak? Don’t think you could handle me in all my glory?”

Felicity snorts, shaking her head, but then she pauses, and Tommy realizes, she’s actually thinking about it.

And before he knows what’s happening, Felicity’s on her feet and reaching behind herself for the zipper of her dress.

Seconds later, she’s stepping out of the fabric and looking at him, one eyebrow raised, challenging. Her expression is clearly asking him, “Well?”

Tommy can’t actually move for a moment – he can only stare at her standing there in nothing but her light blue underwear and bra, unembarrassed and waiting, and all at once he’s a frenzy of motion. He’s got his tee shirt pulled off and pants undone in record time, and when he pushes them down his legs, in his haste, he almost falls over. Felicity laughs and he grins like an idiot.

He and Felicity stop for moment to look each other over, both still covered by the last vestiges of modesty before taking the last giant leap. Tommy feels young and stupid again. He feels powerful, like he can do anything. He hasn’t felt that way in years.

“Together?” Felicity asks, reaching behind herself for the clasp on her bra. Tommy grips the waistband of his boxers.

“Together,” he responds. And then it’s like a checker flag’s been waved, and they’re both stark naked and running like hell for the ocean, Tommy whooping and Felicity squealing in delight.

They crash into the waves, laughing and jumping, going deeper into the dark, warm water. They get a couple hundred feet away from shore, and the water still only reaches their waists, before they slow to a stop. Felicity ducks down, smiling up at him, her breasts hidden below the water.

“Really? You’re getting modest now?”

Felicity laughs. “Well, I mean, come on… How much did you really even see? We were moving too fast for you to get a good look.”

Tommy smirks. “I saw enough to notice that birthmark right near your left nipple.”

Felicity stops laughing immediately, looking mortified, and now it’s Tommy who’s laughing.

“Skinny dipping, Felicity.”

Slowly, she smiles again, and the two relax, Tommy crouching down to be eye level with her, enjoying the feeling of the water surrounding him. It’s almost as warm as the summer night air, so much so that he can hardly tell the difference between the water and air on his skin.

“Last time I went skinny dipping, I was in college,” he says wistfully.

“I’m surprised you remember it. Knowing what you were like in college, you were probably smashed at the time…”

Tommy flicks water at her, and Felicity turns her head away with a noise of surprise.

“Fine, I might have deserved that.”

Tommy smiles and looks up at the sky. The stars twinkle above them, and he takes a deep breath, wanting to soak in everything, to bottle up this feeling inside him and hold on to it.

“Hey, Tommy?” Felicity’s voice is low, unsure.

“Hmm?”

There’s a moment of silence and then – “What happened between you and Laurel?”

Tommy inhales sharply, not expecting the question.

Felicity immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer that – you don’t have to answer that, really. It’s _so_ not any of my business, and I shouldn’t have even – I just, I always wondered, and everything with Oliver – I don’t know – and you guys seemed perfect. Oh god, I’m still talking about it – I really meant it, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Felicity snaps her mouth shut and ducks even lower into the ocean, low enough for the water to cover her mouth, as though it might keep her from saying another word. Her eyes are wide, worried, and her ramble has actually given him a second to consider whether he even wants to say anything.

“No, it’s okay, really.” He means it. He doesn’t feel like she’s intruding, doesn’t feel like he has to say anything, but for the first time, Tommy finds himself wanting to share, to let go of the weight that’s been sitting in his chest since he woke from a coma one year ago to an empty hospital room.

Felicity remains ducked down in the water, so Tommy bends his knees to be as close to eye level as he can. He glances off into the blackness of the invisible horizon while he tries to figure out what to say.

“Things sort of just… fell apart,” he begins quietly. “I-” Tommy sighs, because he’s never had to put into words what happened, had to explain it to someone who didn’t intrinsically understand it already.

“You probably know this, but I wasn’t supposed to be at CNRI the night of the quake.”

Felicity nods, her lips rising back above water while she listens.

“I was at the office when Oliver showed up to stop my father, and he ran off up to the roof, and I was just – useless. Useless and angry that I couldn’t do more. And honestly, I think, even being as pissed at Oliver as I was at the time, I still believed in him. I knew he could stop my father, I just – I knew my dad, too. And before I’d even given it a thought I was headed for the Glades.”

Tommy wiggles his toes in the sand, feeling the silt swirl up around his feet. “Laurel was buried under debris, and I managed to get her out, and I – I told her I loved her.” Felicity’s soft intake of breath draws his eyes to hers. She’s giving him all her attention, listening to him in a way no one has really listened in a long time.

“It was the first time I’d ever said it, you know?”

She shakes her head.

Tommy nods, raising a hand up out of the water to rub at his forehead. He drags it through his hair and lets it drop back with a small splash.

“I remember telling her to run. I remember the building falling on me. I remember a lot of pain, and Oliver and then nothing.”

Tommy swallows past the lump forming in his throat.

“When they told me two months had gone by, I-“ he shakes his head. “I didn’t know. I hadn’t known how long I’d been out for. They told me Laurel had been there every day in the beginning, just sitting there by my bed, waiting for me to wake up, but…” The deep breath he pulls in feels heavy with more than the humidity. It rattles in his chest and he stares into Felicity’s eyes, hoping she’ll understand what he’s about to tell her.

“It’s unfair, but I woke up alone in that room, and thought, ‘Where’s Laurel?’ I couldn’t understand how she wouldn’t be there. As far as I knew, the Undertaking had _just_ happened, and I’d been skewered by a building, but I was alive, and Laurel was just – gone. I mean, I got it in the end, I realized that she _had_ been there, been waiting, but I couldn’t shake that disappointment. And it was so stupid, because, what? Did I expect her to spend the rest of her life waiting for a miracle that probably wasn’t going to happen?”

He’s breathing heavily and Tommy feels the beginnings of tears prick at the backs of his eyes, so he shakes his head and gives Felicity his most charming smile, attempting to stave off the embarrassment.

“I guess part of me thought that the big gesture, you know, saving Laurel, telling her I loved her with everything going to hell around us, that that would sweep everything else away. Her and Oliver, my insecurities. I thought none of it would matter anymore. That it would change years of me playing second string to the memory of a dead man.”

He can see what he thinks is pity in Felicity’s eyes, hates it, and shrugs, sniffing, playing it off as no big deal. “Anyway,” he says, “Meanwhile, Oliver and Laurel had guilted themselves into barely being able to have a conversation with each other, because they thought I was as good as dead, and I’m not really sure Laurel ever felt like she could give me what I wanted, which was dumb, because, yeah, all I ever wanted was to love her… And then Oliver ran away to that damned island again and left her alone, and-“

Tommy shrugs.

“Like I said. Everything just sort of fell apart.”

He’s not looking at Felicity anymore, just staring down into the opaque water, and he feels stupid, because he doesn’t really know what to say now. But then Felicity’s hand is on his shoulder and he looks up, feeling helpless. She’s biting her lip, worrying at it about something, and he’s about to ask, but then she leans in and kisses him.

He’s not expecting it, and he’s so surprised, it takes him a couple of seconds to respond, but he finally lifts his hands to hold her face, moving his lips gently against hers. Her lips are salty, but full and damp from the water, and he tilts his head to taste her more deeply, hearing her sharp intake of breath. Her hand trails down from his shoulder to his hip, raising goosebumps on his skin when she trails her fingers down his waist, and he feels her breasts barely brush against his chest. That birthmark comes to mind, and oddly enough, it’s what brings him back to his senses, and Tommy pulls away suddenly, clearing his throat and letting go of her, looking away because this is not what he wants.

“Tommy?” Felicity sounds confused, but he can’t look at her; doesn’t want her pity.

“You, uh – You don’t have to do this,” he says, clenching his jaw tightly. There was a time in his life when Tommy would have already had a girl in this situation gasping his name, but now – God, his past self would be so disappointed.

“Oh.”

That’s not a good sound. He wasn’t expecting Felicity’s voice to sound that small, that hurt. He forces himself to look up, and finds her folding her arms across her chest, looking back towards the shore.

“No,” he says, trying to fix whatever he’s done wrong. “No, I mean – you don’t have to feel like you need to-“ he gestures vaguely between the two of them, “to make me feel better. I didn’t tell you that so you’d feel bad for me. I don’t – I don’t want people to pity me, Felicity, and I just-“

“What? I don’t pity you!” Felicity cuts him off, and now she’s frowning.

Tommy’s confused. “Wait. So why did you kiss me?”

Felicity shakes her head and laughs. “Because I wanted to? Because I get it? Are you kidding me with this, Merlyn? You found me sulking by myself on a beach, in the dark, contemplating how pathetic I am for the millionth time this year.”

He’s silent for a moment at that, but he can’t help it when he asks her, “And Oliver? What about him?” He isn’t sure he wants to be someone else’s second choice. Honestly, he isn’t sure he’d be able to survive it again.

“Tommy,” she says softly, “Oliver made his decision. And I’m not going to wait around anymore. I think we’ve both done enough waiting in our lives. Apparently we were both important enough to be put on pedestals, but not to be loved. And I, for one, am done with it.”

Tommy stares at Felicity as she gets up slowly, dropping her arms. The water comes up to her waist, and she stands naked and unabashed in the moonlight.

He can see her chest expand with the deep breath she takes before she says, “Make love to me, Tommy?”

He pauses just long enough to make sure he believes her – that this is about the two of them, not Oliver or Laurel, and then he surges forward, gripping her waist and parting her lips with his.

Felicity’s hands come up to grip his shoulders, steadying herself, and Tommy shivers when her tongue brushes along the seam of his lips. He and Felicity both groan when he opens for her, tasting each other more deeply.

When Felicity bites at his lip, he feels the sting of salt and he tightens his grip, moaning.

He pulls away, but only to begin trailing sucking kisses down her neck. Felicity’s head drops to the side, and he feels her nails dig into his skin when he reaches her clavicle, so he spends extra time there, lavishing attention on the spot, before moving lower.

He remembers that birth mark, and fuck, Tommy wants to taste it. He lets go of Felicity’s hip and reaches up to cradle her breast, rubbing his thumb over the mark. It’s not raised – just a smooth discoloration, and he leans down, licking a stripe across it and then takes Felicity’s nipple in his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and teeth.

Felicity whimpers, arching against him, and Tommy can’t help it, he smirks.  She must catch it, because she swats at his shoulder.

“Less smirking, more biting, Tommy.”

She sounds disapproving, but the words come out gasped and breathy, and Felicity’s not fooling anyone.

Tommy moves to her other breast, repeating his actions, dragging his fingers down to her waist, and then below the water, brushing lightly against soft curls, and then dipping lower still.

Felicity makes a muffled noise, and Tommy looks up, her breast still in his mouth, to find her biting her lip, eyes screwed shut.

He lets go of her nipple, giving it one last suck before he pulls back.

“Who are you trying to be quiet for, Felicity?” he asks. He makes his voice low, smooth, grinning as he stands up straight again, leaning into her until his lips are brushing against her ear. His fingers stroke through Felicity’s folds, and she whimpers again. “No one can hear us out here.” He bites lightly at her earlobe, and reaches his free arm around her lower back when he feels her shudder, feels her balance go off. His thumb finds her clit and he rubs a rough circle around it. “Let it out,” he breathes into her ear, “Be as loud as you want to be. I _want_ to hear you.”

He slides two fingers inside of her and Felicity’s head drops back and she cries out, loudly.

Tommy buries his face in Felicity’s neck, focusing on giving her pleasure, listening to each sound, every breath, feeling her shake against him. His fingers move inside of her, his thumb teasing her clit with slow light touches, followed by quick, tight circles, until he knows his arm around her waist is the only thing keeping her from falling down. Their bodies are warm and damp, moonlight shining on their skin, and for a moment, they’re glowing. The sea and stars and summer air are theirs, and when Felicity screams, it’s like a supernova, bursting in front of his eyes.

Her chest is heaving as he slowly pulls his fingers out, little gasps, or maybe sobs... But her face is clear, and her eyes wide open as she looks up into the sky. He can see the moon reflected in her eyes, and when she looks back down at him, she’s smiling.

He leans his forehead against hers, both arms now draped around her lower back, and she does the same, trailing her fingers along the top of his ass. Tommy is still hard, he knows Felicity can feel him, but there’s no urgency to do anything about it, not just yet, anyway.

As Felicity’s breathing slows, he presses a soft kiss to her lips, and they just stay that way, holding each other, listening to the wind and the water move around them.

“You good?” Tommy finally asks her.

Felicity hums in response. One of her hands slides around his waist to brush lightly against his erection. He breathes in sharply.

“You?”

Tommy shakes his head. “Later. I’m good for now.” And just to prove it, and because he can, (and he isn’t going to lie, _that_ sends a thrill through him), he kisses her again. It isn’t rushed, isn’t going anywhere, and yet somehow, it’s everything.

He pulls away and breathes deeply. Once again, he can taste the air on his tongue, and on the exhale, he closes his eyes. “Come home with me,” he says softly. He wants to see what she’d look like in his bed, hair spread across the pillows. He wants to give her the focus she deserves, the love they both need so badly. He wants to give her _time_.

“Okay,” Felicity says, nodding. But then she laughs, and before Tommy realizes what’s happening, she shoves him. He flails, crying out, and falls, splashing into the water. When he finally manages to get his legs beneath him again, she’s already halfway back to shore, laughing and looking back at him. And he grins, because they have all the time in the world, and runs to catch up.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Siren's Call](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436058) by [angelskuuipo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelskuuipo/pseuds/angelskuuipo)




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